


Terra Incognita

by noifsandsorbees



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noifsandsorbees/pseuds/noifsandsorbees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Millennium. Prompt: touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terra Incognita

It’s just his back, she thinks as her hand glides over his skin, thumb digging into a knot, sore and tight and attached to a neck about to go through hell from a sling.

It’s the same back that she’s dug her fingers into in hugs that felt like salvation, attached to arms that seem to magnetically curl around her, attached to hands that she’s held in her own in moments far more tender than this; that is, one hour into the new millennium, hidden away in the dark of his apartment, her ordering his shirt off as soon as he’d made an offhand complaint about being sore.

It’s only him, except now the lips that have touched her cheek and forehead and palms and knuckles and shoulders and pads of her thumbs have touched her own and somehow that changes everything.

She works her hands over him with doctor-like focus, the way she’s done in countless motel rooms across the country, yet she can’t summon the detachment she needs to ignore the intimacy of the moment. Instead, she finds her fingertips gently tracing the lines of his muscles and her thumbs rubbing small circles that let her feel how surprisingly soft he is. She’s resisting the urge to brush her lips against his spine and is only a breath away from giving in.

She lists the muscles one by one, moves on to bones and still can’t tune out the knowledge that when she stops, their night may end with her hands lower, his mouth learning more of her, or — her heart lurches — maybe just her standing up, saying goodnight and walking out the door.

He shifts away and brings his lips to her ear, whispers, “it’s your turn.”

She turns around on the couch, in a move they’ve done a hundred times before, except now she slides her shirt off first, confident, as if she does it every time. His hand is hot against her and just the one seems to cover almost half of her exposed skin with its pure size. She feels herself loosening under him, though with only his non-dominant hand free, his massage is more a caress.

He’s braver than her, she thinks, as he brushes his lips over the back of her neck and then again and again down her spine. He clumsily unclasps her bra and she lets it fall to her lap as he kisses the newly-exposed skin.

This, she thinks, they’ve never done before, and as she turns around and kisses him, she can’t remember why.


End file.
